


Die Another Day

by Benedicthiddleston



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bond Mate, Failed Mission, M/M, Torture, language barriers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benedicthiddleston/pseuds/Benedicthiddleston
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It really isn't a surprise to Spock anymore when every mission tends to backfire spectacularly. Except this one leaves him with an unease he has never experienced before: how much trauma can he watch his bond mate go through?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Die Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> The GDOV is actually mild (I don't go into CRAZY descriptions, essentially), but I didn't want to leave it up to chance. There is some unpleasant descriptions at the least. Apparently my mind just went there when given the title. And I'm not one to write this kind of thing :/
> 
> I was given a title (Die Another Day) for the Weekend Challenge of Feb 7th-9th over at [1_Million_Words](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/515235.html) and I went with it!
> 
> Unbetated. I own NOTHING!!!

**Die Another Day**

“Enterprise! ENTERPRISE! Can you HEAR US?!” Captain James T. Kirk yelled into his communicator, one hand pressed to Commander Spock’s arm as it tried desperately to stem the bleeding from a gaping wound.

Communicator interference was surely the problem, but Kirk couldn’t take the time to fix the problem, let alone find out exactly what was interfering with the communicator, let alone transport ability. Everything _, everything_ , always went to hell and back on these missions.

There had been a distress call. But when Spock, Kirk, two security personnel, and M’Benga had materialized on the planet, the arrows had started flying immediately.

M’Benga was dead. One of the security guards was in shock, on the bridge of death. The other security guard had disappeared and no answer came when contact was attempted by communicator. And now the _Enterprise_ was not answering.

“It will be all right, Spock. Everything will be fine,” Kirk tried to reason with himself out loud.

“Captain-“ Spock was having a hard time concentrating, and the fact his bond mate was increasingly stressed did not help matters. “You need to get somewhere safe. It is not safe with me.”

“I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU!” Kirk yelled, his breathing erratic and strained as he quickly took in their surroundings.

The rustling from the brush nearby almost made Kirk jump out of his skin. He was never this jumpy. Not even in the most stressful of situations. _What is wrong with me?!_

Three pairs of eyes looked back at him, a bow and arrow set attached to each shimmering body. The indigenous species was unlike anything Kirk had ever seen before. They were not humanoid, but they were bipedal. It would have made for an interesting exploration mission, had things not gone to shit when they had beamed down to the planet.

“We come in peace!” Kirk pleaded, his hand still on Spock’s arm as the three individuals jumped out of the bush, one holding a crudely made spear.

“Captain, I do not think they will understand you,” Spock tried reasoning, fully aware that it was highly unlikely the indigenous species knew any Standard. They, nor anyone else in the Federation, had been to this planet before. The fact they had gotten a distress signal was puzzling to Spock. Something he would have to meditate on, to study. If they got out of this alive, that is.  

Kirk slowly stood, reluctantly giving up his hold on Spock’s arm. The bleeding continued, and Spock attempted to cover up the gash, but his movement proved threatening.

Two of the individuals screamed at Spock and reached to pick him up. The one with the spear lunged at Kirk. Kirk managed to get out of the way, but did not have time to stop the other two individuals from hauling Spock up onto his feet and one of them wrapping their hands around his neck.

“WAIT, WAIT!” Kirk put up his hands in surrender, afraid of what they would do to Spock. “Please, please, don’t hurt him. Please. I will do anything you want. Just don’t hurt him any further.” He held out his hands, nodding at the one with the spear to take him instead.

They must have understood, because the two indigenous species holding Spock gave each other glances and nodded. They released Spock, letting him drop to the ground unceremoniously, and all three individuals advanced on the weaponless Captain.

“Captain, no-“ But it was useless. Spock watched helplessly as they dragged his Captain away, the last image of his lover imprinted in his mind forever: a look of having lost a part of himself, and that steely determination he always had to make everything right.

_Lost… everything is… lost…_

Spock drifted into unconsciousness, his blood loss critical, his thoughts barely registering the battle cry around him.

 _Lost_.

* * *

He awoke to the incessant beeping of the familiar machines in Sickbay. _Enterprise. I am back on the Enterprise_.  Before even attempting to open his eyes or move any parts of his body, he categorized his problems. _No pain. Good. Arm still healing. Legs optimal. Head optimal_. Spock came to the conclusion instantly that he was all right.

_But what of Jim?_

He sat up, eyes snapping open to the quietness of Sickbay. Only two other individuals were within his vision, and neither of them mattered to him.

Except-

“Hold it, Spock. I’m not letting you go anywhere.” Dr. McCoy walked up, tricorder in hand, face pinched tight with – _anxiety. Stress. Worry. Something is wrong_.

“Where is the Captain?”

“I want you to lie back down and let me check you over. You’ve been in your healing trance for thirteen hours and I want to make sure you are okay.”

“Where is the Captain?” He asked again, not obeying what the Chief Medical Officer was asking of him.

“Spock-“

“Where is _Jim_?”

Dr. McCoy had the audacity to look grief stricken. “Still on the planet.”

“And why am _I_ back in Sickbay and he is still on the planet?!” Spock positioned himself so that he could jump off the bed, but Dr. McCoy’s hand found its resting spot on Spock’s chest.

“Lieutenant Uhura has gone down, attempting to learn their language and have the Captain released.”

 _Something is wrong. He never calls people by their official titles_. “Dr. McCoy, explain _what is going on right now_.”

“We know they are torturing him. What for, we do not know. Uhura is our best language specialist, she is still trying to learn information. At this time, all we know is that he is still alive, but they have… they…”

“ _What_?”

“We’ve been given proof that they have him. So far… we have an ear, a hand, two toes, and… his penis.”

Spock felt his heart stop. _They are dismembering him one appendage at a time_.

“Spock, when we get him back, I will make sure he gets all his parts back. These days, we can practically GROW everything back. Heck, no one needs to live without two kidneys anymore. We know how to use stem cells and regenerators. And we _will_ get him back, I promise.”

“I need to be on the bridge. I need to know how Lieutenant Uhura is handling the situation on the planet,” Spock responded sternly, ignoring the growing tumultuous feelings within himself. His human side was winning, but he would not let it. He was Vulcan. He could control these emotions.

“No. You will stay here. I need you to stay here and rest. We have this under control. You will know-“

“ _Dr. McCoy!!”_

He ran to comm. system, breathless. “Yes, Mr. Chekov.”

“ _Lieutenant Uhura has signaled that she has achieved the release of the Captain. Transporter capability will be effective in five minutes. Have Medical standing by in the transporter room._ ”

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov!”

Dr. McCoy barked at his nurses and triage staff to move to the transporter room on the double. He then called for his surgical suite to be prepped.

Spock, in all the commotion, slipped off his biobed and almost got himself through the door, following the nurses, when a hand yanked him back into Sickbay.

“No. I will update you on his progress. But you are staying here.”

Spock didn’t get a chance to protest as a hypo slammed against his neck, and 4.5 seconds later he was out. _Damn humans_.

* * *

He surfaced from his drug-induced sleep to find the curtain pulled around his bed. He shifted uncomfortably, his disgust apparent with having been drugged unwillingly. _Uncalled for, Dr. McCoy_ , Spock grouched to himself as he sat up.

Rustling from nearby told him he wasn’t alone in Sickbay any longer. If that meant Jim was okay, he would kiss the Doctor with passion. _I am being highly illogical_ , Spock mused, slipping off the biobed with ease. He felt at optimal capacity. He no longer felt the need to be stuck in Sickbay because of his own injuries, as they were no non-existent. However, that did not mean he was leaving.

He stepped around the curtain and found Dr. McCoy stepping from surgical bay 1, his face a mixture of concern and determination. “Dr. McCoy.”

“Hmm? Oh, Spock.” It took Dr. McCoy a second to realize what was going on. “Spock!”

“How is he?” Spock looked past the doctor into the surgical bay, where he saw his Captain’s right hand. It did not look like it was the hand taken so cruelly from him earlier.

Dr. McCoy steered Spock away from the area and into his office. The door slid open and then shut with barely a hiss. The doctor put Spock in a chair and then proceeded to sit in his own office chair behind his desk, a hand running down his face in exhaustion.

“You have no answered my question.”

“He’ll be okay. He will _live_. He lost a lot of blood. When they brought him out to Uhura, he was unconscious. A mercy, truly. I managed to get his hand back on without any complications. His ear was easy and a simple surgical application. His toes were also not difficult. He will need a lot of rehabilitation with the hand, but at least it wasn’t his dominant hand.”

“And his...” Spock couldn’t finish the sentence. Dr. McCoy gave him a look of thanks for not mentioning it.

“I got it back on, but in cases of castration – the muscle may be lost. He’ll still be able to excrete urine properly, since it is mostly a function of the bladder and needing a pipe to run through. But Spock, as for intercourse – I don’t even know how I will tell him this myself-“

“It is likely he has lost that ability.”

“Yeah. Yeah, unfortunately. It won’t be easy telling him. He will not take it well. Maybe – maybe some function could come back, but they – they took everything. He can’t even reproduce now. Heck, the only thing identifying him as a human male is his genetics. And the fact I got it back on for functionality. It’s more now – that and aesthetics. He won’t feel anything. He won’t – I’m so sorry.”Dr. McCoy felt himself stutter to a halt, hating the discussion all the more. This was his _best friend_ he was talking about. It was in some ways a bitter reminder that in these cases he needed to separate the relationship from the facts. Tell them straight up and without emotion. Except with Jim, it was difficult. Very difficult.

Spock didn’t feel any remorse, at least – not yet. It was difficult to comprehend the fact his bond mate no longer could enjoy sexual intercourse because he would no longer have those urges. The hormones, yes, but the ability to come was gone forever. Once someone was sterile, especially by mechanical and physical terms, it was a highly unlikely probability of ever getting back to what once was.   

“I hold no qualm against you, Doctor. You had to do what you could do with what you were given. It was the indigenous species down on the planet that harmed him. They are to blame.”

McCoy sighed. “Look, Spock, he’ll be asleep for a while now. I won’t know what he knows until he wakes up. I can release you from Sickbay, and you can choose to – you can stay by his side, I won’t stop you. Or you can handle the bridge. If you choose that, I will notify you the second he is awake. I – you should be there when I tell him.”

Spock nodded. “Of course, Doctor. I will – I will stay with him, however. The bridge does not need me at this time.” He stood, assuming the conversation was over.

“Spock?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t let this change your attraction for him. Don’t let this affect what you two have. He’s never been happier, and I hate to – just don’t give up on him.”

Spock didn’t respond as he exited Dr. McCoy’s office. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling or what he would do. He couldn’t give up on Jim. It wasn’t right. _Logic dictates… to stay strong, and to wait for him to wake up_.

* * *

The wait was agonizing. Jim slept on, even after the anesthesia wore off. Thirteen point six hours later, he blinked; the lights bright in his vision.

“Jim,” Spock breathed, squeezing his bond mate’s right hand tightly. “You are awake.”

“Hmm, ugh…” Jim muttered, closing his eyes and wishing to go back to bed.

“You aren’t dead, I promise.”

“Oh god, what happened?” He managed to croak out, every nerve firing as it tried to reassure him he was okay – but things, feelings, certain parts of his body didn’t _feel_ right.

Dr. McCoy entered seconds later, tricorder in hand. “Good, you finally woke up.”

“What all do you remember, Jim?” Spock gently asked, continuing to hold tight to his lover’s hand.

Jim let out a small sigh. “Pain. A ton of pain. They took… my right ear… two of my toes on my right… and then they took my left hand and I screamed. And then it was all – dark.”

 _Fuck_ , Dr. McCoy thought as he scanned. _He has no idea_. “That’s good, Jim. Really good. They – they sent us the parts they took off, and I managed to get them back on. Your ear is good as new, your toes are okay, but you will need some extensive rehab on your left hand to be back in working order. I did my best when I put you back together.”

“Is that… something else doesn’t feel right…” Jim opened his eyes, a small gasp echoing through-out the private room. “No!”

“Jim, Jim – calm down,” Spock tried soothing his lover as he stood up, putting hands on either side of Jim’s face. “You must understand-“

“No, no, please. Please, they didn’t. No!” Jim was already crying, tears dropping like rain.

“It changes nothing, Jim. I am here. I am here. Please – I love you, t’hy’la. There is nothing about you that I don’t love.”

“Spock, I don’t-“

“HOW?! WHY?! WHY DID THEY TAKE IT?!!” It was an agonizing question, one neither man in the room could answer with their friend in hysterics.

“Jim, I want you to calm down,” Dr. McCoy said sternly, his hands already deftly loading a hypospray of sedative.

“WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO ME?!” Jim tried to sit up, his right hand already reaching for the area. He had to know, needed to know. He couldn’t – there was no feeling. Nothing. He had no idea if it was there. No heavy weight. Nothing. There was – nothing.

“Jim, shhh, you are okay. I – we reapplied it, but I can’t – you aren’t emotionally stable, and I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I want you to rest. We will talk. We will,” Dr. McCoy urged, one hand on Jim’s chest as he and Spock together held Jim down. The hypo was administered and Jim fought it every second before he could no longer hold back. He fell asleep with tears still streaming down his face, his right hand lax against his pants.

McCoy rubbed a hand down his face. “That was a disaster.”

“He needs to know everything.”

“And I will tell him everything, every detail, when he isn’t emotionally distressed. You saw him. He basically went bananas because he now can’t even _feel_ his own fucking penis! He’s a man, for christ’s sake! He just lost his manhood, and when it was given back, it’s not even FUNCTIONAL! Please, Spock, I – I will handle this.”

Spock didn’t respond, just nodded.

 _Jim. My Jim. I am so… sorry_.

* * *

When Jim woke up later, he didn’t respond to anyone. He just stared at the wall, tears flowing freely.

“Jim, you need to eat.”

He shook his head as he shoved away the food Spock was trying to coax him into eating. It was pointless though. Jim wasn’t hungry, and in no mood to – to do anything. _I want to die right now_. He almost wishes he had died. He had been tortured with body parts removed, and when he had been unconscious, they had taken his most important part of him away. And now nothing could change his situation. _Nothing_.

Spock stopped trying, just sat next to the bed, holding onto Jim’s right hand like it was a lifeline.

It felt like hours, but Jim was sure it was only a few minutes later, before he got the courage to ask a simple question. “What are we going to do… about… this?”

Spock ran a thumb over Jim’s hand, contemplating his question. “We will deal with it day by day.”

“I obviously can’t – sex is out of the question.”

“Your arousal can still occur because of hormones. I realize that being able to come is important, especially with human males, but we can make sex work. It is just a new challenge. Dr. McCoy did say you still have vital functionality, which is good. That is essentially. You are also – you are _alive_. That is what counts.”

Jim sighed. “I guess this is… better. To not have died. To… to die another day…”

Spock kissed him, loving him all the more. “Everything will be all right, my t’hy’la. I promise you that.”

 


End file.
